Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
SERENITY
As much as I’d love to go to my house and pull Madden out of the panic room, I can’t. He has to stay there until the five families and the Cichellos can divide the territories.
I step in front of Aleksandr. An evil smirk lifts my cheeks. “Welcome to your new humble abode.” I lift my gloved hands, fanning them like showing off a new car on display.
Large hands land on my shoulders from behind. “This place has everything we need,” Nico adds.
“I’m trying to remember who started the glamorous warehouses…oh, my cousin Catch. He was in Chicago with our cousin Ritchie, keeping an eye on Lexis, Luca Esposito’s girlfriend. Now Catch and Ritchie are married to women they met in Chicago.”
I try wiggling out of his grasp. “The same cousins who went along with you switching out my birth control pills,” I sneer.
“Trouble…in…paradise,” Aleksandr grits out through his puffy, swollen, bloody lips.
His short blond strands are streaked with blood. And he’s dressed down in a white undershirt and red silk boxers.
Nico leans into my body. The feel of his muscles against my frame almost makes me forget we are at odds.
“Our marriage is none of your fucking concern. Now back to our decked-out torture warehouse. The chair you’re sitting in is a limited edition.
I bought two. Just for you and Ettore. The Espositos were the first to have this chair.
They’re trendsetters in the mafia underworld within the five families. ”
Nico slips a possessive arm over my shoulder and across my breasts, locking me against his body. I want to kick him in the balls.
“Nico, release me.”
“Wife, tell him about the amenities,” Nico pushes.
I know my husband is getting a kick out of this moment.
So is Aleksandr.
“Want out of your arranged marriage, huh, Serenity?” He chuckles.
“Like my husband said, our marriage is none of your concern. You’re here because you partnered with Ettore and was okay with him harming innocent women and children.”
“Maybe that’s something you do in the Bratva world. We don’t do it in the mafia world.”
A scream is heard in the distance.
“Fuck you. Motherfucker,” he cries out.
Aleksandr tries peeking over his shoulder in the tall chair.
“Oh, that’s Ettore crying like a little bitch. Miff and Kicks are dropping bricks on his stomach. I want him to endure similar pain my mother did when her stomach was being kicked in.”
Nico’s arm protectively curls tighter around my neck and he whispers in my ear, “Would you like to lie down for a little while?" You can torture these assholes later.”
For that second, I forget about our beef and lean into my husband, who recognizes I need him right now despite me trying to push him away a few minutes ago.
“I’ll get Aleksandr started. Then I’ll take a shower, talk to Madden, and eat.”
Aleksandr’s curious eyes meet mine.
“An hour nap,” Nico pushes.
“I’m not sleepy.”
“I can put you to sleep.”
Turning in his arms, I glare up at him. We’re wearing matching bouffant caps. “You get none of this.”
He grips my chin. “Rest Serenity. We both know you’re carrying my second child.”
“Second child?” Aleksandr splutters.
A smile curls my lips at the surprise in his tone.
I step closer to Aleksandr. “Let’s get you set up.”
“How didn’t we know about this child?” he asks, his Russian accent heavy.
“My husband let me raise our son in Italy. So he’d be safe.” I press a button on the chair.
“Now get ready for your special massage. I’ll start you out nice and slow.”
He stares at me, not knowing what to expect. Miff drags Ettore’s limp body through the warehouse on a sheet of plastic to keep the blood from leaking all over the floor.
I clap my hands. “Oh goody. Your partner is here.”
Miff grabs Ettore’s arms, Kicks picks up his feet, and they place him in the second chair.
My smile widens. “Look at you. You’re all dirty.”
My eyes roam his frame. The expensive dark suit jacket is rumpled. The knees of his slacks have holes and are bloody. The once crisp white dress shirt is partially tucked in and stained crimson.
“Ah, what the fuck?” Aleksandr yells.
My surprise got him. Tiny needles had jammed into his hamstrings.
I peek at him, taking delight in his shocked expression. He tries to get out of the chair, but of course that’s impossible. Thick leather straps secure his wrists and ankles to the leather chair.
Nico slams his fist into his nose. Aleksandr’s head jerks back.
“Enjoy being stabbed every minute or five. Depends on the setting Serenity put it on.”
I laugh and turn back to Ettore. “The handsome, confident-looking man has gone bye - bye.”
Blood trickled down the side of his mouth.
“Shit, I think he’s bleeding internally,” I gripe.
“Wife, that’s what happens when you beat an asshole’s stomach in.”
“Fuck,” I growl.
“Kinsley’s home with a newborn, but don’t worry. I’ll call Nadine.”
I nod.
“Guys, remove his clothes.”
“Leave his boxers on,” Nico adds.
I glance at my husband. “You think I want to see his goods?”
“No, doesn’t mean I want either of them naked in front of you.”
“I got it, Nico.” I shake my head.
Ettore’s jacket and shirt have been thrown to the side. Kicks pulls off his bloody undershirt next.
Blue and red bruises cover his tattooed skin.
“You deserve this pain,” I yell.
“My mother didn’t.”
Ettore’s barely conscious and not listening to me. That has to change.
“Recline his seat. Don’t strap him down yet,” I order.
“Serenity,” Nico warns.
Grabbing a switchblade from my waist holster, I approach Ettore.
I notice Miff nods at Nico and pulls his Glock from his holster. He points it at his head.
“Don’t think about touching her,” Miff warns.
Kicks is at my side. I can feel the tension in the air.
I slide the blade down his chest. “I told Gioele…”
Ettore’s eyes widen at the mention of his brother’s name.
“…the pedo Bruciare all’inferno. Burn in hell.” I smirk.
“Right before I slit his throat.”
His gray eyes darken. “You little bitch.”
Phlegm flies from his mouth, landing on my cheek as his fist rockets into my chest. I jerk back.
The blow steals the air from my lungs, and I stagger backward, hitting the cold concrete floor.
A sharp, throbbing pain pulses through my chest. Nausea churns in my stomach.
Nico hauls me up, sets me in a nearby chair, and dabs my face clean with a paper towel.
I see the rage burning in his eyes. He wants to shout, but he swallows the words.
What’s with men spitting in a woman’s face? This is the second time one of my enemies has done it.
Nico tosses the paper towel onto the plastic sheet and strides toward Ettore, who’s being savagely beaten by Miff and Kicks.
Nico pulls a knife from his waist holster and drives it into Ettore’s foot. As Ettore lets out a bloodcurdling scream, Nico clamps his hand around Ettore’s neck.
“You are responsible for stealing my wife’s innocence.” Nico plunges his fist into his face repeatedly at a weird angle, like he’s an MMA fighter.
“She shouldn’t have had to kill anyone at such a young age. And your piece of shit pedo brother is lucky he got a quick death.” He slams his fist into his face again.
“I want to bring that motherfucker back to life so I can kill him. You bastards destroyed my fucking woman,” he roars in a tone I never heard before.
My heart breaks for Nico.
“Nico, don’t kill him,” I yell out.
My husband steps back, chest rising and falling.
“Tie the bitch down,” he orders.
Nico walks over, scoops me up into his arms, and carries me upstairs. I can feel his anger radiating off him.
My eyes move over the space. Bodyguards secure the inside and outside of the warehouse. No one outside our circle knows where we are. Once we enter the ensuite bathroom, Nico pulls the toilet seat down and sits me down.
He flips on the shower.
“Nico, I’ve got this,” I say, peeling off my gloves and tossing them onto the floor.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tears off his bouffant cap and bulletproof vest.
Nico glares at me as he yanks off my bouffant cap and vest. Then, muttering under his breath, he says, “I should’ve killed him.” He rips off his gloves and flicks them atop mine.
His eyes darken from warm cognac to deep mahogany. “Ettore Vero isn’t just some mafia boss. He’s a cold-blooded killer. That bastard could’ve grabbed your hand and shoved the knife into your neck,” he growls.
“What the fuck kind of mafia boss does that make me? Huh?”
Nico’s right.
“Serenity, I want you to have your revenge, but in a controlled setting. That’s why we restrain those assholes. Without it, they’d lunge for a weapon on the table and try to hurt one of us just to be taken out faster.”
Nico drops to his knees and slides his hands along my hips. “I haven’t been in your presence as much as I’d like. I finally get to see you every single day. I can’t lose you, Serenity.”
What is he talking about? He hasn’t been in my presence as much as he’d like. We’ve been together every day since I returned to town.
I bring my hand up and caress his stubbled jaw. “I was so happy to taunt him. I wanted to show him. I’m in control.”
“Fuck, baby, I know. You will. And this time he’ll be strapped down.”
“Okay,” I reply reluctantly, dropping my hand.
Nico pulls my t-shirt over my head and throws it on the floor. His hand massages the bruise forming on my chest.
He drops his hand to my stomach. “I’m trying to keep you in mommy’s belly.” Nico smirks.
“I’m probably not pregnant.”
“Humor me, Mrs. Pitucco.”
The butterflies still flutter in my stomach.
“Fine. Maybe I’m pregnant.”
The biggest smile lifts his lips.
I’m still furious Nico got me pregnant. However, I love our little boy so much.
“Before I take a nap, we should call Madden.”
“Definitely.” He removes my waist holster, boots, and socks. Next, Nico grips the waistband of my leggings and panties and pulls them down my thighs and legs.
“Nico, I’m still mad at you,” I admit.
“And I’m also still furious with you. But that’s never stopped us before from making each other feel good.”
He lowers his head to my mound.
I push his shoulders. “Don’t smell me. I’m sweaty and gross.”